


The Best Gifts Are The Ones You Don't See Coming

by Mullsandmutts



Series: The Lyft Series [2]
Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Christmas Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:57:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21959686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mullsandmutts/pseuds/Mullsandmutts
Summary: A holiday timestamp to the original story "Can You Lyft Me Up?"
Relationships: Patrick Kane/Jonathan Toews
Series: The Lyft Series [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1580863
Comments: 24
Kudos: 70





	The Best Gifts Are The Ones You Don't See Coming

**Author's Note:**

  * For [starzgrl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/starzgrl/gifts).

> I suck at technology so I will do my best to link this to the original story but if it fails, you will definitely want to hunt it down so that you can have the background.
> 
> This is a quick fluffy little Christmas indulgence for Starzgrl who has always been Mo's biggest cheerleader. I wanted to post it for Christmas so I flew through it in between family events and gift opening. So trust me, there will be grammar/spelling/format errors that I will go clean up at a later time. 
> 
> Set in some imaginary time where the Hawks play away at Vancouver late the night of December 22. Just roll with it.
> 
> There will also be more tales of Mo and the idiots that are raising her in the future so despite the fact that this is a short one, have patience - we will get there :)
> 
> In the meantime, Merry Christmas to those who celebrate and Happy Holiday Season to all!

Jonny slid into the driver’s seat of his Tesla, pulled the door shut sharply and finally, finally, allowed his body to slump heavily, head against the steering wheel as he took deep, cleansing breaths. Post-game cameras were off. Long flight back in the dead of night from stupid fucking Vancouver finally landed. Oh-so-positive Captain speeches were done. Conversations with coaching staff through gritted teeth were wrapped up. He could finally allow himself to turn off “Captain of the Blackhawks Jonathan Toews” mode and simply be frustrated, exhausted, and pissed off Jonny. Alone, in the dark of his cold car in the early dark hours of Christmas Eve.

He lifted his head with a heavy sigh, adjusted his seatbelt and turned the car to head out of the O’Hare parking lot, grateful at least that while Chicago expressway traffic was busy no matter what time of the day, at least it was fairly minimal at 2:14 a.m.

He tried to turn off his racing thoughts as he let the monotonous drive that he had made hundreds of times in his career pull him back toward the downtown Chicago skyline, Christmas and late-night office lights glittering in the dark skyscrapers. But despite the fact that he had all of Chicago believing he was a yogi-level practitioner of meditation, he was, as Patrick liked to point out, a giant poser who pretty much sucked at the whole “turning off the brain and finding inner peace thing.” Particularly when his team was the spectacular trash fire that it currently was.

Jonny was tired. Tired of losing. Tired of sucking. Tired of his knee hurting. Tired of getting asked the same question over and over again by beat reporters about why his team sucked so bad and what was it going to take to fix it. Like Jonny had any fucking clue. He had exhausted everything in his bag of tricks and nothing was working. He was probably going to get traded to New Jersey and end up living in Hoboken or some fucking thing. Like Patrick would ever bring Mo to one of the most toxic states in the Universe.

Jonny brightened momentarily, like he always did at the thought of Patrick and Mo. At least he had them in his life. He and Patrick had been dating for seven months and to be honest, Jonny wasn’t sure how he had ever existed without them. It was like Patrick was the missing piece of the jigsaw puzzle, they just fit together so well. And Mo made him laugh even when his team was falling around him.

But …. Jonny sighed sadly as he pulled into his parking space and got out of the car. But they were in Buffalo, spending Christmas with Patrick’s family as they did every year. He had face-timed them earlier in the day and they were basking in the glow of holiday chaos and dishabille in the midst of his sisters and parents and extended family. And even if they had been in Chicago, it wasn’t like Jonny was going to drive over and wake them up in the middle of the night just to make himself feel better. He was back to being a bit morose as he stuck his key in the front door of his condo and let himself in.

He almost tripped at the scene that met him.

The living room was warm, a fake fire in the fake fireplace cackling and the warm lights of the Christmas tree giving the dim room a soft and cheery ambiance. Candles were lit on various surfaces and their flickering light and soft scents put off a cozy, homey vibe. 

But the thing that caught his eye and held it, the thing that made the past twenty-four hours and brutal loss and painful knee and every other bad thing disappear was the sight of Patrick on the couch, asleep with his head thrown back and mouth wide open and snoring, and Mo, head resting on her dad’s lap, riotous curls against his jeans, covered up with what appeared to be a new ugly fuzzy pink blanket with some sort of popular cartoon cat all over it. 

The sight of the two of them waiting on his couch when he thought he was going to spend Christmas alone and cold, made his breath catch and an uncharacteristic lump form in his throat.

He gently set down his suitcase and bag, toeing off his shoes and dropping his coat and suitcoat over the wing chair. He pulled off his toque and tossed it onto the end table as he rounded the couch and leaned down to brush a thumb across Patrick’s cheek.

Patrick nuzzled into his hand for a moment before opening his eyes with a few slow blinks. Jonny held his breath for some stupid reason until Patrick’s eyes seemed to focus and he let a tired smile cross his face.

“Surprise,” Patrick whispered, turning to kiss Jonny’s hand. Jonny smiled back, dropping in gently to sit next to Patrick and pull him close, not wanting to wake up Mo in the process.

“I’d say so,” Jonny leaned in to give Patrick a soft kiss. The kiss got away from him, as it always did once he tasted the unique flavor of Patrick. 

“Kid on my lap,” Patrick pulled away unsteadily after a few glorious moments of indulgence, breathing a little uneven. It took Jonny every bit of patience he had in him not to growl. Instead he just rested his forehead against Patrick’s and let out a happy sigh. It felt like it had been forever since he released that breath.

“I thought I was going to have to spend the day alone until my parents arrive tonight,” Jonny admitted quietly.

“Like I was going to let you spend Christmas Eve alone,” Patrick snorted. “You would probably drown yourself in the shower, you sad bastard.” Jonny couldn’t even argue.

“Shut up,” Jonny leaned back against the couch and turned his head to look at Patrick, rubbing his thumb idly back and forth along Patrick’s thigh near Mo’s sleeping head.

“Kind of a train wreck, eh?” Patrick never beat around the bush.

“I was thinking dumpster fire but that works too,” Jonny said with a sigh, closing his eyes. 

There was a long silence, long enough that Jonny opened one eye to find Patrick staring at him with a look of disapproval on his face.

“What did the trainer say about your knee?” Patrick asked, voice tense. Jonny couldn’t even be surprised that Patrick had figured it out. Patrick had an uncanny awareness of things that Jonny thought he was pretty good at hiding from everyone else. 

Jonny shrugged. He couldn’t ever lie to Patrick. So he did his go-to, albeit cowardly, maneuver – Jonny just kissed him. He could tell from the way that Patrick bit at his lip just a bit this side of too much that this argument wasn’t over but that Patrick was willing to let it slide a bit. The kiss was just getting good when there was a flurry of interruption.

“Surprise Merry Christmases, Jonny Toews!” Mo gasped and squirmed out of the blanket, scrambling over her father’s lap to launch at Jonny in a giant hug. Jonny was pretty sure Patrick took an elbow to the throat in the process based on the sound he made.

“Christmas, only one,” Jonny corrected as he pulled her in close, curls tickling his nose.

“Boarding school,” Patrick muttered next to him. “I hear boarding school is a thing some decent parents do, right?” Jonny shot him a glare but Mo ignored him, leaning back on Jonny’s lap to grab his cheeks in her little hands.

“Did we surprised you?” Mo asked with wide eyes.

“Best surprise ever," Jonny nodded. "Was this your idea?” 

“Yes!” Mo chattered excitedly. “And it was a secret from everyone. For a long time. We had to fly on a plane in the dark to get here before you. I even got to stay up way past my bedtime.”

“I didn't tell you until we left grandma's house tonight and you slept on my lap through the whole flight and the Lyft ride home,” Patrick snorted. She turned and shot him a look.

“I’m awake now,” she looked out the windows. “And it’s still dark so that counts, Dad.”

“It’s so late it’s early,” Jonny smiled and tugged one of her curls. She looked around the room, Christmas tree lights apparently finally causing realization. She squealed.

“Jonny, it’s Christmas Eve now!” She scrambled off his lap, narrowly missing his trachea with an elbow. “Santa comes tonight!” She ran toward the tree, where Jonny noted there were a few more presents than he had there before he left for Vancouver.

“Looks like Santa came already,” Jonny raised an eyebrow at Patrick, leaning over to kiss his temple. 

“Do you think there is one for me under there?” She turned wide eyes at Jonny, this time completely genuine and hopeful. If there hadn’t been one under the tree (more than one, in fact) for her, the look on her face would have had Jonny pulling major strings to go find some.

“Don’t be greedy,” Patrick chided her, “Grandma is shipping a box full of all of the things you got from your Aunts. Christmas is not about the presents and you know that, you little heathen.”

Mo gasped. She likely had no idea what a heathen was but clearly it was not a good thing. She put her hands on her hips, eyes narrowed. Jonny grinned at how much she looked like her dad when she did things like that.

“I’m telling Gramma you called me heather,” Mo said smugly. 

“I don’t think Santa likes tattle tales,” Patrick offered casually, years past being easily goaded by his child. “Don’t be surprised if some of those presents disappear after Santa comes, is all I’m saying.” Mo gasped indignantly again, fire lighting up in her little eyes.

“Ok, ok,” Jonny intervened before a Kane v Kane battle could spring up. “I don’t know about you both, but I’m pretty sleepy. What are the chances we could go back to sleep for a little while and then wake up when it’s Christmas Eve for real?” A yawn escaped him before he could stop it. And then a thought brought him up short. “Oh. Unless, um, you guys were planning on going back to your house?”

Jonny worked very hard to keep the disappointment out of his voice. If he had his way, Mo and Patrick would never leave his house. He would have asked them to move in months ago. But Patrick had been pretty firm on keeping their home. Something about wanting to prove to himself and Mo that he could support them on his own. Jonny appreciated and respected that choice but he sure didn’t agree with it and it was all he could do to pretend to remain cheery and accommodating. He wanted to turn his spare bedroom into a frilly-hockey-princess-kitten-or-whatever-it-was-Mo-wanted oasis rather than the tiny room she had in Patrick’s apartment in the old brownstone, cheery and clean though it was. After far too many close calls, Jonny wanted Patrick in his giant comfortable bed in a bedroom with an actual working lock on the door rather than the door with the handle that kept falling off because Patrick’s elderly landlord hadn’t yet been able to fix. Mostly, Jonny just wanted Patrick and Mo with him all of the time. Wanted to live in a place where radiators didn’t burst, pipes didn’t drip, and roofs didn’t leak. But Patrick had enough pride and was working so hard that Jonny would never allow him to be ashamed of his home. So instead, Jonny kept his thoughts to himself, not used to not having his way but understanding the compromises that had to be made when you loved someone. Because he did love Patrick. More than he ever would have thought possible. And Mo as well, obviously.

There was a long silence while Patrick studied his face, thoughtfully. Jonny could see the wheels turning and his heart sunk, thinking that Patrick was probably about to get angry after springing such a nice surprise on him.

“I’m sorry,” Jonny said in a rush. “Of course you want to go home and ….”

“Mo,” Patrick interrupted and called her out of her trance, staring at gifts under the tree. “Remember that box with the present for Jonny? The one we talked about with the black bow? Can you bring that to me please?”

“Oooohhhh are we going to open presents?” She rubbed her hands together and dived into the pile, searching for the box her father requested.

“No, ‘we’ are waiting until Christmas morning,” Patrick snorted. “But Jonny gets to open that one a little early.”

“I bet Jonny would let me open one present early,” came her muffled retort as she dug under a stack of gifts. Jonny couldn’t help but smile. She so totally had his number.

“Nice try,” Patrick snorted. 

She found the box in question and walked toward her dad, brushing a curl out of her face. Jonny worried she might be upset that she wouldn't get to open a gift and was prepared to cave but she just grinned and shrugged as she handed her dad the box and climbed onto Jonny’s lap. He tightened his arms around her and kissed the top of her head. God, she was a great kid.

“I shouldn’t get to open my present before Christmas,” Jonny protested, mostly on her behalf.

“Oh it's ok. Don't worry. We made you lots of presents,” Mo assured him. “At least this many.” She held up both hands and wiggled her fingers. 

“Besides,” Patrick smiled and held out the small box. “This one is for you but kind of for us too.” Jonny looked at him questioningly until Patrick rolled his eyes.

“Just open it,” he nudged Jonny’s hand.

“Yeah, open it!” Mo clasped her hands together, clearly working hard to not reach out and open it herself.

“How about you help?” Jonny offered only to be met by Mo’s blinding smile. She reached out and pulled the paper off, thrusting the box back at him.

Jonny opened it and on the white cotton filler were two silver keys. Jonny’s brow furrowed. He didn’t recognize them for any reason, wasn’t sure what they were for.

“Tell him, Mo,” Patrick smiled softly, shaking his head at Jonny’s confusion. Mo nodded her head firmly, getting her little game face on as she had clearly prepared for whatever she was about to say. She turned on Jonny’s face so that she could see him.

“Jonny Toews,” she reached out and took the keys. She held one up. “This is a key. It’s a key to your house.”

“To my house?” Jonny was confused. “You got me a key to my house?”

“Yes,” she chirped. “You need a key because when you have a family, you need to give your key to your family so that they can come stay at your house whenever they want.”

“Ok. But my family all have keys to my house already …,” Jonny trailed off, still confused. Mo sighed and looked at her father. Clearly Jonny wasn’t cottoning onto whatever it was she was trying to say.

“Keep going,” Patrick encouraged her.

“Jonny Toews,” Mo explained to him slowly. “Sometimes your family isn’t the people you growed up with.”

“Grew,” Patrick corrected.

“Grew. Family is about the people you care about and love and want to spend time with and want to be around you forever. And sometimes your family is the people you choose to make be your family,” Mo explained. “Like we choosed Patrick Sharpy and Temi to be part of our family because we love them and they are nice to us. 

“Well it’s Sharpy so I’m not sure …” Jonny started but stopped when Patrick shot him a look.

“Jonny Toews,” Mo held the key up and with a very serious look said, “We are giving you the key to your house so that you can give it back to us. Then,” she picked up the other key, “we will give you the key to our house. That way, we have keys to each other’s houses. Because we are family. You are our family and we are your family and we should have keys to each other’s houses to prove it.”

Mo turned to her dad and whispered, “Did I say that right, Dad?”

“Nailed it, kiddo,” Patrick smiled and held up a hand for a high five. He glanced over at Jonny, a biting his lower lip in nervousness, as if he wasn’t sure what Jonny would do or say.

Jonny looked back and forth between them, taking in their matching questioning blue eyes and bright curls. He couldn’t speak. The air seemed to have left his lungs as the understanding dawned on him. Everything he wanted and had been too afraid to ask was being presented to him. 

“Jonny Toews,” Mo hauled herself up, bony knees digging into his thighs so that she could talk into his ear. She nudged his hand whisper-not-whispered. “You’re supposed to give the key to Daddy.” 

“Ok,” he croaked, reaching out a shaking hand and gently taking the key from her to extend to Patrick.

“Now say,” she not-whisper-whispered, “Patrick Kane, I am giving you this key because I want you to come to my house whenever you want and you are part of my family now.”

“Patrick Kane,” Jonny looked over to where Patrick was blinking rapidly. “I am giving you this key because I want you to come to my house whenever you want and you are part of my family now.” He was glad that he was able to hold it together long enough to get the words out. And equally glad to see Patrick’s hand shaking when he reached out to take the key.

“Thank you, Jonny,” Patrick smiled a wobbly smile and took the key, closing it tightly in his hand. Jonny watched as Patrick reached into the box for the other key and extended it his way.

“Jonathan Toews,” Patrick’s smile turned brighter. “I am giving you this key because I want you to come to my house whenever you want because you are a part of my, of our, family now.” Jonny reached over and took the key, warm from Patrick’s skin. 

“Thank you, Patrick,” Jonny whispered. He knew he was being sappy as fuck but he couldn’t help it. This was a cheesy dramatic way to go about it and the entire league would chirp him to literal death if they ever heard about it, but to Jonny, it was perfect.

“Thank me too,” Mo not-whisper-whispered into Jonny’s ear. He laughed and pulled them both into his arms, where they fit perfectly. He reached down to kiss both sets of curls.

“Thank you, too, Miss Molly Donna Patricia Amelia Kane,” Jonny whispered, not embarrassed by his own emotions when he heard Patrick sniffle wetly against his neck. 

“You’re welcome,” she beamed at him. After a moment, a giant yawn escaped her.

“Saw that,” Patrick sat up, stealthily wiping away at his eyes and taking a deep breath. “Time for bed.”

“I’m not tired,” she said automatically, another yawn escaping.

“Well,” Jonny interrupted, tightening his arms and slowly standing, careful not to drop her. “I heard that Santa doesn’t come on Christmas if you don’t sleep on Christmas Eve.” Mo leaned back and narrowed her eyes on his face.

“I think you might be trying to trick me, Jonny Toews,” she said, yet another yawn escaping. He was pretty sure she would be out the minute her head hit the pillow.

“Maybe,” he agreed, reaching a hand down to Patrick to haul him up. He watched as Patrick walked around the room to put out the candles and lock the door.

“It’s not nice to trick your new family, Jonny Toews,” Mo said tiredly, face nestling into his neck as her body drooped against him. “Santa might not bring you any presents.”

Jonny tightened his arms on her and smiled softly down at Patrick as he walked up to kiss her cheek and then Jonny’s.

“He might not,” Jonny agreed, winking at Patrick. “But that’s okay because everything I could ever want is right here.” 

****** The end ******


End file.
